


Tacos or hotdogs?

by Rapida



Series: all the times [3]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 23:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11115510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rapida/pseuds/Rapida
Summary: Alex helps her little sister come to terms with her sexuality so that she can finally go get her girl.





	Tacos or hotdogs?

**Author's Note:**

> You don't have to read it to understand it, but there are some references from my other one-shot here; so if you want to get a better understanding or make a connection on some of the things I wrote, check that one out first: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11056164

Kara has always liked girls.

Not _liked_ liked girls.

Well, she’s never really considered the possibility of liking girls… _like_ that.  

She’s always thought that girls are beautiful and smart; that, in most occasions (because she’s not trying to say that she hasn’t seen men with these qualities as well), girls are more compassionate and soft and empathetic and warm and _loving-_

-and just this whole array of adjectives that she desperately hopes to describe a _man_ with _,_ her _perfect_ man with.

She knows he’s out there; she knows that he _has to be_ out there, somewhere.

The only reason that all of her relationships end is because she hasn’t found _him_ (because, really, there’s no other reason as to why it shouldn’t have worked out with Jimmy or Adam or even Winn. They’re all great, _great_ guys. Mon-El was good to her too. _Sometimes._ He made her happy though, and that’s what’s important. She _cared_ for him. When he- when he left… that _hurt._ A lot.)

\- it just _didn’t -_ she _wasn’t -_ they _weren’t -_

It just wasn’t meant to be, and she can accept that. Kara can deal with fate being a bitch and fate being a pain in _you know where_.

What she just _can’t_ deal with _,_ what she has never given herself the chance to even consider, is destiny slithering out of nowhere (from Metropolis, actually) and making her rethink _everything._

That maybe she’s- _ahem -_ that Kara, that Supergirl is- that she may somehow like… _both?_   

Because, at least, that’s what she thought (that she hadn’t met _him)_ until she stumbled upon _her._ Her with striking sea green eyes, obsidian black hair, pale complexion, genius mind, big - _huge_ even _,_ biggest she’s seen _-_ heart, and unfortunate family problems. Her with an unwavering belief in Kara, an undying loyalty, an unshakeable friendship, and incredible wits.

She’s the one that’s making Kara doubt herself because Kara has never really _liked_ liked girls…

… but she’s sure (Rao, she is more than _certain)_ of her feelings for Lena Luthor.

 

“Do you want tacos or hot dogs?”

_Wait, what?_

Kara’s cheeks burn redder than her cape, and Kara stammers, and Kara coughs, and Kara fiddles with her glasses.

“Alex, wh-what?”

Her sister purses her lips and raises an eyebrow. They know each other too well. “Do you want tacos or hot dogs for girls’ night? We can grab some by the hot dog stand close to my apartment or we can buy Mexican food from a new place Maggie told me about.”

“I, uh, I mean, why- why do I have to choose _one_? Why does there always have to be a choice, Alex? Why can’t it be _both?_ Why can’t this be easier? Why, Alex, _why?_ ”

“Hey, hey, _breathe._ If it bothers you _that_ much, we can order both.” Alex looks at her sister from top to bottom, takes note of the way she suddenly releases a breath of air and looks down at her shoes; how her shoulders drop and she crosses her arms over her torso _defensively_ (Alex heard somewhere that people do that subconsciously as some sort of protection; they do it when they feel _vulnerable_ and _insecure_ ).

Alex can read her little sister faster than she can dismantle and reassemble her alien gun. For her, it’s easier than understanding why Maggie wants a Labrador instead of a Husky _-_ but that’s a problem she can focus on some other time.

She knows that something is clearly wrong, so she takes Kara’s hand, intertwining their fingers together.

“This isn’t just, for the first time in your life, about the food, right?”

Kara’s eyes water, and Kara shakes her head _no,_ and Kara’s hands start getting all clammy, and Kara fixes the rim of her glasses.

It’s about 5:30 in the afternoon on a Thursday. The streets aren’t filled with their normal vigor and their usual cacophony of people and cars and pets and robberies. Tonight nobody needs saving except the savior herself. The orchestra of life’s everyday sounds has retired for the evening, the curtains have closed, and Alex couldn’t be more grateful. Now, Kara can relax and they don’t have to worry about her feeling overwhelmed, about her sensory overload. There’s going to be an overabundance of emotions (and, Alex hopes not, there might be a surplus of tears too), but they can deal with that. They _have_ to.

They don’t say anything. It’s a companionship type of silence. There’s a layer of understanding and respect and _love._ Alex leads Kara to the park (the same place where she came out) and Kara lets her.

It’s a short and pleasant walk (when you don’t take into consideration Kara’s inner turmoil. Alex swears she can even _hear_ the gears turning in her sister’s head and she feels a little bad for J’onn because this must be what it’s like when one of the Danvers sisters is thinking too loudly). The park is just two blocks from where they were. Alex hugs her jacket closer around her body as the late afternoon wind picks up; she doesn’t let go of Kara’s hand though, _never._

It’s strange to see the city so void of its usual vitality. Alex can only faintly hear some automobiles rushing through the streets, the quiet chatter of people getting home from work, tired and exhausted as if it’s a Monday afternoon, and the high screeching of faraway trains reaching the station.

She can’t help but wonder how her sister perceives the noise. If the chatting resonates as yelling; if she detects the minuscule frequencies produced by the cars (how their engines burn fossil fuels, how their tires singe the cement, how every single screw and bolt twist and turns in the inner workings of the hood); if the clanking of the trains’ wheels against the track reverberates as the low bass of a drum, echoing and echoing in her skull.

It must be awful, but at least she has her glasses.

At least they buffer some of the unwanted pandemonia that life harbors.

Alex sometimes wishes she had glasses like those too.   

   

When they get to the park, Alex lets go of her little sister’s hand and leans back against the railing, elbows resting above it on each of her sides.

The park is almost empty. It’s only them, an elderly couple sitting down in one of the benches off to their right and a pack of teenagers laughing and messing around (Alex thinks she can see brown paper bags filled with beer bottle like containers from where she is standing) to their left. The sun is setting beautifully in a palette of orange and pink. It reminds Alex of lazy Sunday nights spent binge watching shows with her girlfriend. There’s a ghost of a smile on her lips. _Maggie Sawyer_ makes that happen a lot.

Alex thinks that Kara has to find herself a Maggie Sawyer. Not _her_ Maggie, of course, but _a_ Maggie. Someone who’ll love her enormously and support her endlessly. They’ll always have each other (they’re sister for crying out loud), but there’s something special about having a significant other that she can’t quite place into words.

“Talk to me.” Alex says it softly and Alex says it gently. She whispers it and lets the wind carry it towards her sister.      

Kara shudders.

Alex knows what’s coming. She hadn’t seen it coming originally, but when Maggie asked her if there was something between her little sister and the youngest Luthor (it’s all because she’s a detective; she _detects),_ Alex started noticing. And wondering.

She knows they still have to fix some issues and really _talk_. It’s been a few months and they’re still extremely close friends, but Lena created the device that sent Mon-El away, and, even though Alex resented the way he treated her sister, Kara cared for him.

She also knows that no one (not Jimmy, not Winn, not Adam, not Mon-El) has ever looked at Kara like _Lena_ does; that no one looks at Lena like _Kara_ does. 

Additionally, there’s the whole Kara-is-really-Supergirl fiasco (that is, only if the Luthor hasn’t figured it out yet.) (Alex thinks she has. She’s too smart to not have realized it; to not have pieced it together with Kara’s unintentional slip ups and abrupt disappearances.)

They have some problems, but they have the time and the growing (dare she say) _love_ to work on their solutions.

Kara shudders, and it’s not because of the cold.

“Alex, I- I mean, I _know_ that I’ve liked guys before. I _know_ that I even came close to loving James at one point and maybe even Mon-El, but I just - I never really… what I’m trying to say is that it’s just never even been, like, like _this_ for me, you know? Well, I’m not sure if you _do_ know because you told me that you started remembering other moments with girls and all that, but - _ugh -_ Alex, what I’m trying to say is-”

Kara lets out a frustrated huff and she runs her right hand through her ponytail, detangling her hair.

“ _Rao,_ how do people do this?”

Her little sister is struggling right now, but Alex feels calm. Kara’s _never let her go_ repeats itself in the back of her head, and she can’t help but fidget with the ring (it’s more of a promise ring than an engagement one, to be honest; they both agreed to wait for a little) on her finger. “Kara, what’s stopping you?” She asks.

The blonde freezes. “What?”

“We both know how you feel,” The observation makes Kara blush, “and we both know that those feelings are real. Is it the label? Is it what other people might say? How she might react?”

“I just… I guess it’s a little bit of everything really, and that I never really saw myself as- as, you know, as-”

“As bisexual?”

Kara sucks in a deep breath and nods quickly.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Kara. It’s perfectly normal and _fine.”_  

“I’m so sorry, Alex.”

“What? Kara, why are you apologizing?”

“Because I don’t want to make you feel like I’m taking the spotlight, like you don’t matter.”

“Kara, I would _never_ believe that. _Trust_ me.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

There’s another silence. A little uneasier than before, but not exactly uncomfortable.

Alex thinks that Kara doesn’t believe her, and, if she’s honest, she doesn’t know if she believes her words either. Alex has just recently discovered how important it is to take care of herself, that her wellbeing is as important as her sister’s. She probably would have felt _some_ degree of hurt (not that she would have ever voiced it out loud) because for the first time in her life this was supposed to be about _her_ and not _Kara._

But that was _before_ and not _now._ Now, she has Maggie. Now, Alex is _happy._

And she wants to make her little sister happy too.  

So she lets go of all that pent-up anger that plagued her for so long and she shakes her head. Alex turns around so that she’s leaning forward on the railing, side by side with Kara, arms and shoulders touching.

They haven’t been good sisters recently.

They’ve been working on it though; on having nights only for themselves, without girlfriends and without confusing feelings; on learning to balance the other important people in their lives _and_ each other (the _most_ important); on talking and communicating once again.

They’ve been working on _asking_ each other for help, and on _delivering_ and _giving_ each other that help (like they used to do, but forgot how to).

“Can I give you some advice?”

“ _Please.”_     

“Don’t worry about labels and about what other people think and all of that. It’ll just cause you headaches and unnecessary stress. What’s important is what you think of yourself and what you _feel_.” Alex stops talking for a second to place her hands on Kara’s shoulders; they both face each other. “Take this from someone who stood where you’re standing. I’m not even kidding. See that bench over there? That’s where I told you.” They both laugh and it lightens the mood. It relaxes Kara a bit.

Alex hugs her tightly; she hugs her closely. “If she makes you happy, Kara, trust me, it’s worth it. _”_

They break apart, and Kara wipes a lone tear from the corner of her eye. “You’re right.” She says. She clears her throat and she stands a little bit straighter and a little bit braver. “I, Kara Danvers, also known as Kara Zor-El and Supergirl, am - I am- I-” She takes a deep breath, clenches her fists and places them on her hips. _Ready._ “I am bisexual and there’s absolutely positively _nothing_ wrong with that.”

Her older sister smiles; her eyes glisten with amusement and affection.

“Thanks, Alex.”

“It’s what sisters are for.”

“When did you start being this wise and _sentimental_?”

“I’m going to choose to ignore that question.”

“ _Rao,_ Maggie has turned you into a puddle of mush.”

“No, she hasn’t. I’m still a badass.”

They laugh again and settle into a contented silence (this one is light; this one is carefree; this one is  _sisterly)._

“I love you.”

“I love you too, _always.”_   

And just like that, they’re back to normal.

“So, what are you in the mood for? Grace and Frankie? Law and Order?”

“Actually, have you heard about Wynonna Earp?”

.:.

It’s late, but Kara can’t sleep. (It’s been a problem recently: _sleeping.)_

Alex is passed out in one leg of the couch, blanket loosely tossed over her. They made it through four episodes of Wynonna Earp. The fifth is playing on mute in the background.

It’s late, but not late enough for a certain someone to have left her office.

So Kara stands, she’s wearing some sweatpants and a sweater she found deep in her sister’s closet, and she quickly puts on her shoes. She thought she was being quiet, but Alex stirs anyways.

“Kara, is everything alright?” She asks groggily.

“Yeah, yeah, go back to sleep I’m just- I’m going to get some- _uh -_ milk?”

Alex chuckles. “Good luck getting your girl, you nerd.”

Kara blushes, and Kara chuckles, and Kara flies.

“I’m proud of you,” Alex whispers.

It makes Kara smile. 

.:.

 It rings only once before she answers.

“Kara?”

“Hi, Lena!”

There’s a laugh on the other side of the line. “Do tell what’s struck you with such elation.” (Kara shyly grins and Kara giggles and Kara nearly crashes into a building.) “Oh my- _Kara_ , are you all right? What was that noise?”

“It’s - that was - I’m _fine_ , don’t worry. Are you in your office?”

“Yeah… are you sure you’re okay? This might seem strange, but it sounds as if you’re in a wind tunnel.”

“I’m fine. I’m great, I swear, _fantastic_ even. I’ll see you soon.”

“Kara, _what-”_  

Kara hangs up before Lena finishes.

There’s a new purpose rushing through her veins, pushing her, _urging_ her, forward. She feels _alive_ in every sense of the word: in the way her heart contracts and expands, pumping blood (in the way she feels the crimson liquid move in every vain, through every organ, across every tissue); in the way she feels the energy, the _adrenaline,_ being released from her nervous system (it increases her heart rate, expands the capacity of her lungs, and enlarges her pupils). She feels it in the way her skin shivers with desire; in the way her ears and her nose pick up each sound and each smell with eagerness and excitement; in the way her lips tingle with anticipation.

 _Lena Luthor, what have you done to me?_  

She’s still wearing her sister’s clothes, hair pulled up in a ponytail, so she lands downstairs, behind a dumpster. She’s going to tell Lena that she’s Supergirl, she swears it, but she’s not sure when.

Kara enters the lobby and greets the officer stationed at the entrance. They’ve seen each other a couple of times, so he lets her pass by without a hassle. She’s trying to look cool, trying to look relaxed - really, she _is_ \- but the feat seems impossible. Kara nearly speeds through the lobby, and her leg shakes absurdly fast in the elevator.

“Miss Danvers.” Jess is tired, Kara can tell by the slump in her posture and the bags under her eyes. She’s also surprised to see the blonde here so late.

“Hi, Jess, I told you you can call me Kara.”

“Right, I apologize. Miss Luthor is in her office.”

“Thanks, Jess.”

“Of course, Miss Danvers.” Kara chuckles and shakes her head, making her way across the floor. Her hand reaches the handle on the door to Lena’s office, but she doesn’t push it open. “Jess?”

“Yes, Miss Danvers?”

“Go home.” The secretary hesitates. Her eyes dart to the office behind Kara, and she opens her mouth to argue. “Don’t worry about Lena, I’ll tell her that I let you go.” Jess still isn’t convinced.

Exhaustion beats whatever ounce of opposition is left in her body though because, after a few seconds, Jess turns off her computer, grabs her purse, and heads to the elevator.

“Thank you, Kara.”

The blonde just smiles warmly and looks down at the handle; she hadn’t noticed that her hands were shaking. Slowly, she pushes forward and walks into Lena’s office.

Her breath catches in her throat.

“Lena,” Kara says her name breathlessly and she says her name eagerly. It slides through her lips as easily as opening the entrance to her apartment, as lovingly as when she reminisces about Krypton. She mutters it with such normalcy and so comfortably that she can’t help but feel as if she’s finally coming _home_.

Lena Luthor is sitting down, back straight as a rod, behind her desk. She looks regal and powerful and _beautiful_ with her hair cascading down her shoulders, blazing red lipstick, skin tight dress, and dark blazer loosely tossed over her chair. Her blue and green eyes dart upward because of the noise and because of that _voice_ calling her. Kara quivers as Lena’s eyes rake her body, from bottom to top, until they clash with her own sky blue ones. 

(Kara hears Lena’s sharp intake of breath, she sees how minuscule drops of sweat push through the pores in Lena’s palms, she hears the escalation of Lena’s heartbeat, she sees how Lena’s pupils dilate.)

(Kara Danvers will always notice everything about Lena Luther. _Always._ )

“Kara,” Lena whispers and Lena shivers because she understands (after a careful yet swift analysis of the scenario - of how free and at ease Kara looks in her own skin; of how she twitches with determination; of how her eyes shine with a blinding flare of _hope_ , the same hope that Lena’s had for so long; of how she's standing before her, in sweatpants and a sweater, at nearly midnight). She comprehends the gravity of this encounter and the magnitude of what’s about to happen; so Lena speaks softly - as smooth as velvet, with her posh and perfect English - because she’s relieved: she’s been waiting patiently for Kara to grow and mature on her own, but now - now she’s ready for her friend (her _best_ friend, her _only_ friend) to _come home._     

The atmosphere is heavy, so incredibly thick and incredibly dense that Kara thinks she can slice it in half with her heat vision. She’s never felt her heart pound against her rib cage this much, this fervently, this loudly. Her heartstrings pull, minuscule droplets of sweat cool down her seething skin, and she feels so out of breath that her chest rises and falls briskly. 

The only sound in the room is that of their breathing.

Lena Luthor knows exactly why Kara is reacting the way she is. For goodness sake, she isn’t dumb - Lena’s a genius and she’s become an expert in everything and anything having to do with Kara Danvers. 

But it also goes both ways.      

Because Kara Danvers knows exactly why Lena suddenly stands (why she straightens her skirt by pushing the rim of it down _);_ why she releases a shaky breath of air; why she takes a step forward, then another one, then another one, until they stand right in front of each other. (She feels it in the air, she feels it in the molecules around them, she feels it in the night sky - how it’s been a calm evening; how, just for tonight, everything is only about  _them -_ she feels it in her  _heart._ )

Everything is falling into place.

Lena stops at arm’s length.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

They both giggle and grin (high on dopamine, high on love, high on  _happiness_ ).

“I have something very important to tell you and I’m sorry it took me this long to figure out.” Kara’s fingers twitch because all she wants to do is reach out and _touch_. 

“You don’t have to apologize, Kara. I wasn’t, and I’m still not, going anywhere.”

Kara swallows thickly. Her lips feel dry. 

She’s nervous - Rao, she is  _terrified_ \- but she’s also certain, she’s also sure, and she’s also resolute. She knows how she feels and she knows what she wants.

So Kara takes a deep breath, she feels the oxygen travel through her brain, calming her, and she takes a step towards Lena, grabbing her hand; her thumb gently caresses Lena’s knuckle. 

They’re extremely close, right in each other’s personal space, breathing the exact same air.

She doesn’t know if it’s the immense amount of oxytocin in her system or if her recent personal awakening and acceptance have left her more daring and brave, but, for the first time ever around Lena, she lets her heart speak a _bout_ Lena without filtering the words through her brain.

"Lena Luthor, I think you're one of the most intelligent, kindhearted, wonderful and beautiful people I've met; and it would an honor to take you out to dinner." Kara thinks she's doing great and she thinks that what she's saying is lovely, but her nerves get the better of her and _what if Lena thinks I_ only  _want to take her out to dinner? What if she thinks this is going to be like our usual dynamic? What if I wasn't clear enough? What if she doesn't get it? Rao, did I use too many adjectives? Snapper is always on my back because of that. Oh Kara, what have you done?_ So Kara pauses.

And then Kara rambles: "Or lunch or breakfast or brunch or maybe even a picnic. And not like we've always done. Until now. I mean, _like_ before, but _romantically_ now. Because I _like_ you. _Romantically_. I mean, I have feelings for you. _Romantic_ feelings. But that's only if you want to, of course. To go out. With me."

Kara holds her breath, and Kara adjusts her glasses, and Kara's eyes go wide, and Kara freezes (waiting, waiting, oh so anxiously  _waiting_ for a reply). 

"Kara Danvers," Lena Luthor raises an eyebrow and tilts her head to the side. (Kara's heart is about to explode from her chest.) "Did you just ask me out on a _date?"_

Lena laughs (rich and full of life and so blissfully  _happy),_ which makes Kara laugh and ease up and relax. And blush. Kara's blushing so much (from embarrassment, from bashfulness, from _happiness)._

"Is that- is that a yes?" 

"I'm going to have to check my schedule..."

" _Lena,"_

"Yes, it's a  _yes,_ Kara."

"Oh thank goodness, I think I nearly went into cardiac arrest." 

"Thank God you didn't, darling."

"I hadn't realized that the CEO of L Corp cared so much about the livelihood of a CatCo reporter."

"Yes, well, they always send the same reporter, so I guess you can say that she's grown on me. Just a little."

"Just a little?"

"More like a lot."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."  

Kara's been smiling so much that her cheeks hurt, but she doesn't care (because she's finally, _finally_ so incredibly, insurmountably, immensely  _happy)_.

"Miss Luther?"

"Yes, Miss Danvers?"

"Can I kiss you? Just a little."

"Just a little?"

"More like a lot." 

"Mhh... I'm going to have to talk with PR first, see how they think it'll make the company look-"

Kara cuts her off because Kara knows Lena and Kara knows she's just teasing and Kara's been wanting to kiss her for a really long time. 

 

(Alex was right: it  _is_ worth it. It's worth _everything_.) 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh. My. God. It took me soooooo long to write this. I couldn't figure out how to end it, but hopefully you like how I decided to finish it. 
> 
> Tell me what you think!


End file.
